smiling and laughing as they worked, but at least determined-looking and taking an active part in the drive.
“Well, I heard your friend over there, and she’s only partly right. You don’t have to go attacking the horse, but you do have to tell him what to do. Think of it this way, he really wants to do what you want him to, but no one told him what you want. He doesn’t speak your language. What would you do if I walked up to you and rattled off a bunch of stuff in Chinese? You’d just stand there, looking confused. I could shove you and kick you and make you move, I could even shout at you in Chinese, but you still wouldn’t know what I wanted. Here.”
Carey reached across Amy and took the reins from her hands, causing her pulse to beat that much faster at being so close to someone as rugged and drop-dead gorgeous as Carey. He flicked the reins lightly so that the hanging loop gently slapped against the horse’s front shoulder while nudging the animal’s rear shoulder with the toe of his boot. Amy looked relieved when the horse began to walk purposefully, not rearing or taking off, but moving with purpose along with the rest of the group.
“See there? That’s his language. I just told him to go forward and step with his right leg first. The problem is a sudden jerk of his reins will tell him that there’s a danger ahead but if he doesn’t see any danger, he’s going to be really confused by why you’re acting crazy. Just give your instructions gently but firmly.”
“I just don’t want to hurt him,” Amy said quietly, scratching at the horse’s neck in front of her saddle.
“But now you’re confusing him,” Carey laughed. “You told him to move forward, but then you told him to stand still so you could scratch him! Which one do you think he’s going to do, walk or be petted?” Carey smiled at Amy, understanding that she was so far out of her element that he couldn’t assume she knew what he meant. “He knows you like him, and you can pet him all you want when you’re done working. Remember, these aren’t our pets. Even though we care for them and make sure they’re as happy as they can be, they’re still working members of the ranch, just like all of us cowboys. No one’s coming up behind me and giving me a back rub when I’m out here!”
I’d like to, Amy thought, causing a sudden blush to shine through the fair skin of her cheeks and surprising herself with the brazen thought. I could do more than that, too.
Carey couldn’t help but notice her embarrassment and didn’t let himself even wonder what thought she’d had that caused it. He nodded awkwardly and tipped his hat, then rode back toward the front to check on the others. He looked back once or twice to make sure she was still doing okay, and was taken aback when he caught her looking at him one time.
“How’s the babysitting going?” a ranch hand said under his breath when Carey began to pass around him.
“I think it’s okay,” he answered, looking over the new people and counting them to make sure they were all still with the group. “No one too obnoxious or too incompetent, I’m just worried about a couple of them who obviously haven’t been on a horse before.”
“Hey, if it’s any help at all, there’s a couple of ‘em back there who can ride right up here with me,” the hand said slyly, patting the saddle in front of him. “Wouldn’t mind having to see a few of their faces more closely for the rest of the trip! I mean, only if it helps you, of course!.”
“You say that now,” Carey said with a quiet laugh. “There’s one or two in that group who would rip your chest open with their claws and feast on your beating heart!” The hand, David, laughed so loudly, he startled a nearby steer.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I met that one already. She took offense when I called her ‘ma’am’, then told me not to single her out by ‘labeling her with her imposed gender identity.’ I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think it’s just safer if I don’t address her ever again!”
“Just don’t make eye contact or speak in her presence, and for the love of Pete, don’t look at her chest. I don’t want to have to scrape up pieces of you from here to Missouri!” Carey slapped David on the shoulder then continued on.
Chapter Three
By the time lunch rolled around, Bernard had assembled his remaining Carson sons—Carey, Joseph, Seamus, and Jacob—and the two foremen who still worked for the ranch. As much as Bernard hated to admit it, this particular drive had gone so much more smoothly—even with Casey’s absence as the oldest son—and the only thing he could attribute it to was the loss of Jack, a longtime foreman for Carson Hill. He wondered, once again, if he’d given the foreman far too much leeway over the two decades Jack had worked for him, especially considering he was crazy enough to murder someone and was now sitting in the state prison, hopefully rotting. The whole thing had made Bernard wonder how much he really knew any of the thirty or forty outsiders who lived on his ranch and worked with his family, day after day.
The faces of his small crew looked up at him from their seats around the table in the large bus-like RV that served as his office during the drive. There were sleeping bunks and a shower that various members of the group could take turns using, and a real bathroom for any one of the paying visitors who was too squeamish to use the facilities the great outdoors had to offer.
Maps were spread on the table in front of them, with marked waypoints as to where they would stop each day. The only thing different about this meeting compared to the same meetings that took place during round ups from a hundred years ago was the presence of iPads, handheld GPS devices, Bernard’s laptop, and a few more 21st century items that helped guarantee the drive went off with as little disruption and risk as possible. A satellite phone stood up on the table and its green power LED shone, connecting the middle son, Anders, to the meeting from his place back home in the ranch office.
“I don’t see any reason why we can’t just add two or three miles a day to the trip and cut out a whole day of the drive,” one of the foreman, Dwayne, argued again, pointing to the different spots past each waypoint that would still have plenty of water and access for the vehicles to meet up with the group. “We’ve never had weather this good, and we’re making really great time. We can press on and pick up the pace now.”
Even though they were twins, Casey had always held the unofficial position as the oldest Carson boy, the oldest brother, and by rights, that made him more of Bernard’s second-in-command. So when everyone looked at Carey, he fought the urge to look over his shoulder for Casey. When he realized that his brother’s absence meant he was now a louder voice in the decisions that had to be made, it was both exciting and a little bit unnerving as everyone looked at him for input.
“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “If we walk the cattle more than thirty miles a day, we’re going to have some awfully skinny cows to sell when we finally arrive in Missouri. These are animals whose whole lives have been spent just standing around, eating grass all day. If we push ‘em too hard, we’re liable to lose a lot of their numbers.
“Plus, we have the city people to think about. They paid to come out here for a full drive, and we provided a detailed itinerary so that they could check in with family and friends back home at each of the designated spots. They even get to take that day trip once we reach the state line, remember?”
“Is this a vacation, or a cattle drive?” Dwayne demanded, a tone of disgust creeping into his voice. Bernard watched Carey’s face silently to see how he would handle both the second-guessing and the mild impertinence from one of their employees.
“It’s both,” Carey said in a stern, level voice, looking Dwayne directly in the eye.
“Our
